


Yesterday's Sea Is in the Sky

by china_shop



Series: Waltzverse [9]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Background Clinton/OFC, Background Peter/Elizabeth/Neal, Brief reference to contemplating suicide (OC backstory), Character(s) of Color, Dating, Families of Choice, Gender, Lesbians, Nonbinary Character, Other, Race, The White Collar Alumni Association, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 04:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5032906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/china_shop/pseuds/china_shop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Diana leaned back in her chair and looked at the Burkes and Neal. "Okay, so tell me, what is up with Mozzie? Is he just really bored now you've retired?" She pointed her bottle at Neal. "Because far be it from me to promote a criminal lifestyle, but can't you do something to keep him busy? He's driving me crazy."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yesterday's Sea Is in the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> A million thanks to mergatrude, Cyphomandra and Vaudevilles for beta and advice, to Sherylyn for Ameri-picking, and to EliseM for the title (from her [artlog](http://elisem.dreamwidth.org/1459244.html)). 
> 
> I'm a childfree, white, cis, bi woman from NZ, and this fic touches on race and gender issues of which I have no experience; my sincere apologies if I've messed up, and please feel free to let me know. I'd appreciate it. 
> 
> Partially inspired by Jason Statham's character in _Spy_.

**1.**

Diana scrolled to the case study section of her policy document and suppressed a sigh. She'd been given this assignment because of her experience with the subject matter—namely, _Embedding Criminal Informants in FBI Operational Units: Benefits, Risks and Policy Recommendations_ —and sooner or later she was going to have to write up a frank and factual account of Caffrey's history with White Collar NY without betraying Peter's confidence on any number of counts, from the murky business of the U-boat treasure to the revelation that Caffrey's death during one of the most significant busts in recent FBI history had been a con, and he was now in a romantic triad with his former handler and said handler's wife. If Peter wanted to come out to the Bureau, that was his business, but she wasn't going to put it in a report that could be distributed all the way to the top brass. Especially since she'd been the one to process Neal's release paperwork.

She rested her fingertips on the keyboard, waiting for inspiration, and like a reprieve from the gods, her phone rang. It was her father. "Hi, princess. There's a man here saying he's a friend of Theo's from New York. Short, bald, glasses…"

"Mozzie." Diana groaned and covered her face, avoiding a curious glance from Agent Watkins, who sat across from her and spent half his time gossiping at the coffee machine. She did not want to have to explain Mozzie to her parents or anyone else. She didn't even want them in the same state as each other! "He's not dangerous, just tell him—"

"Your mother invited him to stay for dinner." That was her father's bland voice, which meant he thought Mom was being adorably eccentric, and he was planning to sit back and enjoy the show.

"Of course she has." If Diana hadn't already been covering her eyes, she would have face-palmed. Her mom always enjoyed a strenuous political debate. She'd had to play the part of tactful hostess for years during Diana's father's diplomatic career, but now they were both retired, there was nothing to hold her back. And Mozzie would provide the perfect fuel for that fire. "I'm on my way."

 

*

 

Moving back to D.C. had been a logical step. Field work demanded irregular hours, incompatible with being a mom, and Washington offered a nine-to-five desk job at good pay, with the added convenience of free daycare for Theo from her parents. 

"Stay as long as you like," her father said, when they first arrived, and her mom kept dropping hints about how nice it was to have all of Theo's books and toys there, when they were looking after him. But they kept buying Theo trucks and diggers, and hiding his beloved dolls in the closet, and her mom had quietly stopped taking him to the Drama Queens toddler dress-ups group, enrolling him in Little Kickers Soccer instead because "he has so much energy, darling; boys need to run around."

Diana had talked her parents into taking Theo to both, but she and Theo needed their own place, where they could relax and be whoever they wanted to be. 

She'd lived in D.C. before. In theory, she knew people here. In reality, her friends were really Christie's friends or they'd moved away. She had no choice but to build a new life for herself and Theo, from the ground up. 

But first she had to get rid of Mozzie.

 

*

 

"—some very credible explanations for the magic bullet," her mom was saying, as Diana burst into the living room. "Did you know the back seat of the car was significantly higher than the front?"

"But you agree the Warren Commission was a whitewash." Mozzie was perched on the couch, eating a gingersnap. There was a half-drunk cup of black coffee on the end table next to him. He looked as out of place as a garden gnome in a nativity scene. 

As a child, Diana had been the one who was out of place, or had felt that way. Her parents' lives had been a constant flurry of diplomatic affairs and society events, leaving Diana in the care of her bodyguard, Charlie, who was like her, practical and tough, half white and half black. Part of the family when it suited her parents, and out-of-sight-out-of-mind the rest of the time. Diana still missed him. But she'd grown closer to her mom and dad in her college years, and their family was almost normal now, differences in worldview and all. 

Diana's mom smoothed her skirt over her knees. "Well, I don't know if I'd call it a whitewash—"

"Where's Theo? What are you doing here, Mozzie?" demanded Diana.

"Diana," said her mother, "is that any way to greet a guest?"

"Theo's gone to get the painting he did of Lulu, to show his friend," said her father, from the armchair by the fireplace. If his loosely clasped hands and the gleam in his dark eyes were anything to go by, he was highly entertained. "Sit down and join us, princess. Do you want coffee?"

Mozzie's eyes widened at the endearment, and Diana felt her temper fray. She glared at him. "I need to speak with you. Outside. Now."

Mozzie opened his mouth, then shut it. He stood up. "Please excuse us," he said to Diana's mom. "We'll just be a moment, Valerie. Wayne."

"Mommy!" Theo charged into the room and wrapped himself around Diana's leg for a brief moment, starting to tell her everything he'd done that day, beginning with breakfast. Then he ran to the couch and clambered onto Mozzie's lap, crumpling his painting in the process and transferring his commentary to Mozzie without stopping to take a breath. Diana knew from experience the artistic purple splodge was supposed to depict his My Little Pony, Lulu, who was faded and losing her mane but still Theo's favorite. 

Mozzie smoothed out the paper and exclaimed, sounding impressed and asking questions, but Diana went over and swung Theo into her arms to cuddle him, interrupting their bonding.

"Hi, Doorbell. Sounds like you had a great day." She kissed his cheek and held him, breathing in his scent, then handed him off to her father. "You stay here with Grandma and Grandpa for a few minutes. I need to talk to Mozzie in private."

"But I haven't told him about the frogs in the song with the rainbow—" Theo wriggled in her father's grasp, scowling.

"In a minute." Diana herded Mozzie outside and shut the door, refraining from slamming it. " _What are you doing in my parents' house?_ "

"I had to meet them sometime, princess." Mozzie gave her a calm, innocent look.

She snarled. "Call me that again, and I'll break both your arms."

Mozzie froze, then inclined his head slightly. "After all, if anything happens to you, we'll have to negotiate custody of little Teddy between the three of us."

"Nothing is going to happen to me, and if it does, you are the last person who'll get custody of Theo." Diana clenched her hands at her sides. "The last!"

"You named him after me! That gives me certain rights!" Mozzie's façade of normalcy dropped away as his voice rose. 

"I'd just given birth!" hissed Diana, gesturing for him to keep it down. "I wasn't thinking clearly! And you can stop Tweeting me links to articles on Montessori too."

"Fine. I'll email them. Happy?"

Diana glowered. It wasn't that she didn't trust him with her son, but he was spectacularly annoying, and if she gave him an inch, he'd declare himself Theo's godfather to anyone who'd listen. She did not want to have to explain that to her parents. On the other hand, it was too late to send him packing now—it would only raise a whole different set of questions, and it would upset Theo. 

"You can stay for dinner," she said, reluctantly. "You will not mention criminal activity or conspiracies of any kind, and you'll leave when Theo goes to bed. But if you ever turn up at my parents' house again without my express permission, that's the last you'll ever see of him. I'll arrest you myself, if I have to."

Mozzie folded his arms and huffed, but she refused to back down. She didn't want him here with her family.

After a moment, he dropped his hands to his sides again. "Your terms are acceptable."

"Great."

They glared at each other some more, neither of them moving. Then Diana shook her head, amazed as always by how quickly he could drag her down to his level. 

"Come on, then." They went back inside. At least he could fill her in on the latest gossip about Peter and Caffrey and the rest of the New York crowd.

 

**2.**

Diana met Leila the same day Theo refused to wear his star t-shirt. "What's going on?” said Diana. "This is your favorite shirt. Come on, arms up.”

Theo squirmed and resisted, and finally shouted, "No! Won't! It's pink!”

"It's purple,” said Diana, frustrated, but she took another look at the shirt, and sure enough, the words I'M A STAR and the star itself were pink. "You can wear pink,” she said, kneeling down to talk to him. "Anyone can wear pink.”

Theo started crying, burying his face in her armpit, which wouldn't do her blouse any favors, but at least she didn't have any meetings scheduled today, and most of the other members of the policy team were parents too. There was an unspoken mutual agreement not to notice minor stains. "What's the problem, Theo-Dorable?" She rubbed his back. "Just tell me, come on. What's wrong with pink?"

"It's for girls," mumbled Theo, his face still pressed against her.

"You wore this shirt last week,” she said. "Here, come with me.” 

She picked him up and took him to her room, opened the closet door. "Okay, what colors does Mom wear? What colors can you see here?”

Theo sniffled and raised his head. "Black.”

"I have a lot of black,” Diana agreed. "What else? What about the other colors?”

"White, red. Green?”

"Yep. Do you see any pink?”

"There.” He pointed.

"That's orange, Doorbell,” said Diana. "And what color's this?” She pointed at a pants suit.

"Blue.” Theo frowned.

"That's right. And I'm a girl.” She gave him a hug and took him through to her parents' room, and opened her father's closet. "Now look at Grandpa's ties. What color ties does he have?”

"Every color,” said Theo, interested despite himself.

"That's right. He has a whole rainbow of ties. Can you see any pink ones?”

"There! And that one!” Theo started pointing out all his grandpa's brightest ties.

"Exactly. Great detective work! Now, what do you think we'll find in Grandma's closet?”

"Pink,” said Theo. 

Diana took him into her mom's walk-in closet, and he pointed to the floral patterns her mom loved.

"Pink! Girl's clothes.”

"Yeah, but what else? Do you think she has anything that's blue?”

Theo looked around. "Blue shoes.”

"Right. Good boy! And what about this? And this jacket?”

"They're blue!”

"And you know why? Because anyone can wear any color they like. It doesn't mean anything. Who can wear green?”

"Anyone,” said Theo.

"And who can wear yellow?”

"Anyone!”

"And who can wear pink and blue?”

"Anyone,” Theo chorused, but he seemed less certain this time, despite the evidence.

"Are you going to wear your star shirt? Come on, it's a great shirt.”

Theo pressed his lips together and shook his head, and Diana sighed and went to get his green Kermit shirt instead, silently cursing her mom and hoping that the propaganda would wear off with enough encouragement. 

They really had to find a place of their own.

 

*

 

That lunchtime, Diana was standing in the window of the sandwich shop near work. She was reading _The Atlantic_ on her tablet and waiting on a Cuban sandwich and a latte to take back to her desk, when a redhead in a tailored suit jostled past her. "Excuse me."

"No problem." Diana glanced up and almost did a double take. The woman was stunning—long velvety eyelashes, hazel eyes, cheekbones to die for. She even had a cute smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose to keep her from being too perfect. The corner of her mouth curved engagingly.

This part of the sandwich shop was crowded with people waiting for their takeout, so it wasn't personal when the woman stood close by, pulled out an iPhone and stood, tapping and swiping at the screen, her sleeve brushing Diana's bare arm. She looked like a movie star. Her hair curled down her neck like a sensuous vine. Diana tried not to stare, and when the woman tucked a curl behind her ear and caught her eye, Diana ducked her head and scrolled down on her tablet, though she'd completely lost the thread of the article she was reading. The woman's nails were manicured, but very short, giving Diana all kinds of inappropriate ideas.

But she didn't live in a rom-com, and she didn't believe in fate. And she already had more going on in her life than she could handle, what with Theo and work and her parents and house-hunting; ergo, she was not going to make a fool of herself hitting on a beautiful stranger in a sandwich shop. That was the kind of thing Caffrey would do. The old Caffrey. Diana checked her watch. She had to get back to the office so she could leave in time to make it home for Theo's dinner.

Someone behind the counter called out, "One triple-shot latte and a Cubano, no pork, extra mustard, for Leila."

He must have misheard her name. Diana tucked her tablet into her bag and went to claim her lunch. She picked up the coffee and was about to take the sandwich when the redhead from the window put a hand on her arm. "That's for me. I'm Leila."

"It's the same as my order," Diana told the guy behind the counter, confused. "Are you sure there isn't a mix-up?"

"It says 'Leila'," he said, pointing to the wrapper.

Diana looked at the redhead. "What are the chances of us having the same order?"

"Obviously we both have excellent taste," she said, eyes dancing. "Look, you were here first. You seem like you're in a hurry. Take it, and I'll get yours when it's ready. What's your name?"

Her grin was wide and engaging, and Diana couldn't help smiling back. "Diana, but I can—" She checked her watch and gave in. "I do have to get back to work. Thanks."

"You could always buy me a drink sometime to make it up to me." Leila raised her eyebrows in a flirtatious challenge, grabbed a sharpie off the counter and wrote a phone number under her name on the sandwich wrapper. "Call me, Diana."

"Maybe I will." Diana grabbed the sandwich and escaped.

 

*

 

Back at her desk, she ate her sandwich and wrestled with the Caffrey case study. She'd made some progress, talking about their successes, but she needed to be even-handed, catalogue the risks too, the losses, all without incriminating anyone. There was no question Peter had bent the rules for Neal. Diana herself had perverted the course of justice more than once, if you were going to get technical about it, but Peter had supported her actions, thanked her for them; that was what mattered.

Of course, given recent developments, his motives may not have been entirely pure. It was a tangle. Diana was confident they'd stayed on the right side of the line, but less sure the Bureau hierarchy would see it that way, and while she stood by her decisions, she didn't especially want to subject them to outside scrutiny.

She sighed and drank her latte, the writing on the now-empty grease-stained sandwich wrapper turning her thoughts to a different problem: the problem of Leila. Or, more accurately, the problem of Diana's love life. She hadn't thought about sex since her second trimester, and since the birth, she'd been so wrapped up in Theo she'd barely noticed the absence of romance from her life, but sometimes, especially up alone at night with a baby who wouldn't stop crying, or when her hands were full and everything was happening at once, she'd longed for the old days of being with Christie. The solid certainty of having someone at her back. 

She didn't want to be single forever, she knew that much, but was this the right time to be looking? She needed to give every spare second to Theo. When he was older and didn't need her so much, she could get back out there. In twelve or fifteen years.

 _Or maybe when a beautiful woman flirts with you and gives you her number, you should grab that opportunity and run with it,_ she told herself. It was definitely an ego-boost. But that didn't make it right. Dating as a parent was new territory—she needed to talk to someone.

She went into one of the small meeting rooms clustered in the center of the floor and called Peter. "Hey, boss."

"Diana, hi." He sounded pleased to hear from her. "Everything okay?"

"Everything's good. You got a minute?"

"Of course. What do you need?"

"I was just wondering, how much did you take being a father—being a parent—into account when you were deciding to start a relationship with Neal?"

"Well, of course it was a factor. El and I wouldn't do anything that would hurt the boy, but—in the end, there was no decision. I don't know if we'd have felt the same if he hadn't already bonded with Mikey, though. Why do you—? Wait, you're thinking about dating. You've met someone. That's great, Diana."

"All I have so far is a phone number," she cautioned, before he could get too excited. "I'm trying to work out if I'm ready. As a mom."

There was a pause. She could easily picture him leaning back in his desk chair with that thoughtful look. "Hmm. Well, I'd say don't overthink it. You've got good instincts—trust your gut. It doesn't have to affect Theo until you want it to."

"It's just— _dating_." Diana groaned. Once upon a time she'd enjoyed the excitement of flirting as much as the next person, but she had zero emotional energy to spare these days, and the prospect was more exhausting than it was exhilarating. 

Peter laughed. "I know what you mean. That's one of the reasons I was glad we skipped straight to domestic bliss, as Neal likes to say. But we're a unique case."

"No kidding," she teased. "It's not like you guys just happened to meet in a sandwich shop over a mislabeled lunch order."

"Oh, is that what happened? And she gave you her number? Well, at least you know she has good taste."

Diana rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

They chatted a few minutes longer, and Diana returned to her desk and eyed the sandwich wrapper. 

Peter had told her to go with her gut, but her gut was doubtful. On the one hand, Leila might not be the kind of person who could fit into her life; on the other hand, on meeting her Diana had experienced her first stirrings of attraction in what felt like years. If only this were a case, like with Abigail the art thief, then the decision would be made for her. She could pursue it for greater justice.

She sighed and shook herself. It was time to get out there again. She'd call and mention having a son, and if Leila reacted positively, then fine. Let the dating commence.

She reached for her desk phone, but right then Watkins came back to his desk and offered her a jelly baby. His tongue was purple from the ones he'd eaten.

"I'm good, thanks." She put Leila's number in her phone, dumped the wrapper in the trash and retreated back to the meeting room. 

It took five rings for Leila to answer, and by then, Diana had wound her hair around her finger so tight, she couldn't tug it free and had to unwind it again while she said, "Hi, Leila. It's Diana. You gave me your sandwich."

"Diana," said Leila brightly. "I remember. I was hoping you'd call. You're going to make good on that drink you owe me, right?"

"It seems only fair, after your epic sacrifice." Diana leaned against the wall and folded her free arm across her front so she wouldn't fiddle with her hair. "I'm a solo mom. I could make it tomorrow after my son's bedtime, say eight-thirty—if that works for you?" 

That would give her plenty of time, even if Theo wouldn't settle, and if the date was awkward, she could excuse herself after an hour on the grounds of lateness.

"It's a date," said Leila. Diana had a flash of wondering if that were a figure of speech, if she'd misread the situation and Leila were actually straight and just being friendly, but Leia continued, "Meet you at Cobalt?"

"Meet you there." Diana disconnected the call. Cobalt was a gay bar, so that eliminated _that_ ambiguity. This was definitely a date. What was she doing? She didn't have time to date. She should call and cancel. Then she remembered Leila's freckles. Really very cute freckles.

She had time for _one_ date.

 

*

 

They met, after a further exchange of text messages, at the restaurant in Cobalt, Level One. Leila was a little late, but she arrived looking even more stunning than she had at the sandwich shop, in a strappy, low-cut black dress, which made up for a lot. Diana ordered them each a rum and coke and tried not to drool.

"So, I have a confession to make," said Leila, after their drinks had arrived. She fiddled with her straw, looked up at Diana through her eyelashes and smirked. "I slipped the guy at the sandwich shop a twenty to mix up our orders yesterday."

Diana sat up straight. It was the last thing she'd expected. "Why?"

"I wanted to meet you. I thought it would give us a starting point. And hey, it worked." Leila grinned, obviously expecting Diana to be flattered.

Unfortunately for Leila, Diana had worked with a world-class con artist for three years, and her kneejerk response to being manipulated wasn't to find it endearing. "So this is a scam."

"Aw, don't be like that," said Leila. "I didn't know how else to approach you. You were super-intimidating, you know, standing there, scowling at your tablet."

She was rationalizing, Diana could see it clear as day, and now that Diana looked more closely, the perfect hair and clothes looked more like a costume than anything else. Diana shook her head. "I don't have time for this."

"Look, give me a chance." Leila reached across the table and took her hand. "I want to get to know you. Give me half an hour."

Diana weakened. It _was_ flattering to be pursued, even if Leila's methods were questionable. "Ten minutes."

Leila relaxed and opened her mouth to say something, when someone pulled up a chair and sat down with them. A bald someone in an eye-watering floral shirt.

"Do you mind?" said Leila. "We're not looking for company."

"What the hell are you doing here?" said Diana.

"You said not to show up at the house without prior warning." Mozzie had a fruity blue cocktail with a neon swizzle stick and an umbrella. "I'm meeting your utterly unreasonable demands. Can I take Theo to the zoo this Saturday? What?"

"You know this guy?" said Leila. Her eyes widened. "Wait, he's not the father…"

"I'm Teddy's godfather," said Mozzie, drawing himself up. "Or I should be, by rights. I'm his mentor."

"His name is Theo, and you're a pain in my ass," said Diana. "Get out of here!"

Mozzie sipped his drink and didn't budge. "The zoo?"

Diana's hands clenched. He was the worst! It was totally unfair that Theo liked him so much. On the other hand, she could use that. "We'll meet you at the Woodley Park McDonald's at ten A.M. on Saturday."

Mozzie looked appalled. "You're not seriously going to let him ingest pure undiluted essence of capitalism?"

"At McDonald's," repeated Diana. "On one condition."

"Which is?" Mozzie looked at her.

Leila was looking at her too, like she was re-evaluating Diana's appeal. Mozzie was disastrous for a girl's image. But some things were more important than Diana's love life. She stabbed a finger at Mozzie in his revolting pink shirt. "You have to wear that."

Leila gaped. "You're actually making plans to meet him? Seriously?"

"It's not like it's a date." Even if Diana hadn't been a lesbian, the idea of dating Mozzie would have been ludicrous; surely Leila could see that.

But Leila huffed. "Hey, _I_ thought it was. Well, I guess it was nice to see you again." She stood up and jabbed a finger at Mozzie. "Not you."

"No, I mean, _this_ was a date," said Diana, but it was too late. Leila was storming off, leaving her alone with Mozzie. Diana glared at him. "Until you barged in. Are you stalking me?"

"She seemed—" Mozzie gestured with the paper umbrella from his drink. "—charmingly impetuous. And there was no need to stalk you. I heard the merest hint of a rumor at Casa Suit, and Valerie was kind enough to let the details slip in our weekly phone call."

"Your—" Diana was speechless. Her carefully organized life was spinning out of control. "This isn't happening. You do not have a weekly phone call with my mom."

"Well, then are you going to explain to her why I'm allowed to talk to Theo and not her? Because she has a fertile imagination for someone who played patsy for Bush Senior's autocracy, and you might not like the conclusions she draws."

Diana winced. "Gross. Shut up."

Mozzie mimed locking his lips, and Diana gulped down the rest of her rum and coke, letting her temper subside. The date had been doomed from the outset, anyway. Diana was too old and too busy to fall for a pretty face when the person behind it was playing games.

 

**3.**

She met Erika at book group. When the next month's "classic" book was announced, she murmured to the woman next to her, "I haven't read _Rubyfruit Jungle_ since I was thirteen."

"Oh, I never read the books," said the woman, not bothering to keep her voice down. "Girl, I work long and hard. If I can't goof off in book group, kill me now."

This was the same woman who'd ventured several opinions on _The Salt Road_ and argued strongly for _Rubyfruit Jungle_ over _Loving Her_. Diana laughed. "Don't let Hayley hear you say that." The meeting was breaking up, formal discussion giving way to more general chatter. "Where do you work?"

"On the Hill," said the woman. "I'm a congressional aide. This is your first meeting, isn't it? How do you know our illustrious host, Special Agent Garson?"

"I'm with the FBI too—Operational Policy, not International Ops. I moved down from New York a couple of months ago, and I don't know many people yet. Hayley passed on an invitation via one of the agents I work with."

"Let me guess, that would be Leonard Watkins." The woman stabbed a long grape-painted fingernail into the air, as if at an imaginary crime scene board. "The biggest gossip I ever met."

"That's the one," said Diana, with a smile. "Of course, when I accepted the invitation, I didn't consider the fact there'd be homework. I'm Diana." She held out her hand.

"Erika Dillahunt." Her handshake was warm and firm. "I'm just here for the chocolate brownie and to remind myself there's life outside the corridors of power." Erika tilted her head and eyed Diana with a predatory gleam. "I'd like to take you to dinner, Diana, to welcome you to D.C. What do you say?"

She was maybe five years older than Diana, with an air of steady competence and wry humor. She wore her graying hair short and natural, and big gold hoop earrings dangled from her ears. She couldn't have been more different from Leila if she'd been hand-picked specially. Diana smiled. "I'd like that. I haven't had a chance to find a place yet, so I'm still staying with my parents with—" 

"Diana, darling, I'm so glad you could make it," said Hayley Garson, their host, interrupting. She took both of Diana's hands in greeting and beamed at her. "I noticed you didn't say much in the discussion, but there's no need to be shy, you know. I'm sure your thoughts about the book are wonderfully insightful."

Diana and Erika exchanged discreet grins. 

 

*

 

The policy document's deadline was looming, and Diana's boss wanted her to get it peer reviewed. "It's your first policy report. You should have been getting regular feedback. Get Watkins to take a look ASAP." 

That was two hours ago, and Diana was still combing through the document, making sure there was nothing incriminating in there. It was an eighty-page treatise, and she'd been working on it so long, it felt private. Leonard Watkins had sharp eyes and a loose tongue; what if he sniffed out her omissions about Peter and Neal? 

"M&M?" Watkins appeared out of nowhere, making her jump. He sat down at his desk, hooked his sunglasses into his pen holder and leaned forward to offer her a bag of candy. 

Diana stopped herself from sending a guilty glance at her screen. "No, thanks." 

"How's it going? Irizarry wants me to take a look at your report."

"I know," said Diana. "I'm nearly done. Give me a couple more hours."

Watkins shrugged. "Tomorrow morning's soon enough. I have a couple of other things to get off my plate first."

"Thanks." Diana answered his questions about book group, resisted pumping him for information about Erika, and eventually he strolled off to tempt someone else with his M&Ms. She slumped in her seat, wrestled with her conscience for a moment, and then saved the case study as a separate document and sent it to Jones, with a bland cover email asking for his input. 

She wasn't working for White Collar NY anymore, but she still felt like part of the team there. She wanted them to know what she was saying about them on the record before she said it, even if it meant breaching the policy division's review process. She could spin it as consulting with a subject matter expert, if she had to.

She went for lunch and then spent an hour checking her statistics and references. At two-thirty, her email chimed with a message from Jones: _Looking good. No comments from this end. Peter says hi._

Reading between the lines, that meant Peter had seen it and approved her version of events, but of course Jones couldn't say that in a work email. Diana swallowed her discomfort with the implicit deception—there was no point getting squeamish now—and resolved to call Jones for a catch-up when she got home that evening. For now, she sent her draft report to Watkins.

 

*

 

Diana and Erika arranged their date by email, rescheduled twice because of last-minute emergencies at Erika's work, and by the time they finally did meet, at an elegant restaurant in Georgetown, Diana had gone from accepting the invitation out of curiosity to looking forward to it. Erika was smart, funny and mature. Diana could easily imagine falling in love with her, both of them raising Theo in a flurry of sophistication and politics. And getting laid. Best of all, she wouldn't have to date anymore.

This was all Leila's fault. Before Leila, she'd been content with her son, her job and her friends in New York. Now she wanted more, dammit.

She was a few minutes late for the date, and Erika was doing something on her phone when she arrived. The waiter led Diana to the table and pulled out her chair, and Diana sat down. "Sorry I'm late. I had to read a story to—"

"Diana, I'm so glad we're finally doing this." Erika belatedly dragged her gaze from her phone and smiled, then turned back to it for a moment. She typed something quickly and put it aside on the table. "Sorry about that. Terrible habit."

"No, I understand," said Diana. "I'm sort of on call too, being a mom."

"Oh." Erika's eyebrows flew up. "I didn't realize you had children."

"One child. A son, Theo. He's three." Diana resisted the impulse to pull out her own phone and show Erika pictures. "I'd just come out of a long-term relationship, and I knew I wanted a baby, so I decided to go for it and do it alone." 

"That's a big decision," said Erika. "You're very brave. I've always put my career first, ahead of everything. It's my driving passion."

The message couldn't have been clearer, and Diana suppressed her disappointment. Once she would have been open to the prospect of a torrid, uncomplicated affair, but she wasn't twenty-five anymore, or even thirty-five, and she was a mom. What she needed in a partner had changed, and apparently Erika was only interested in casual. "I should have mentioned Theo sooner."

"Not at all," said Erika. "It's not as if you're defined by your status as a parent—"

"Bonsoir, Mesdames," said a familiar voice. "May I inform you of our specials this evening?"

Diana looked up in dismay. Seriously? She gave Mozzie a death glare, said to Erika, "Would you excuse me one moment?" and without waiting for her answer, grabbed Mozzie by the arm and hauled him into a quiet spot by the coat check. 

His gaze was guileless. "Fate intervenes again."

"I don't believe in fate. I do believe in stalking, which is a crime. What the hell are you doing here?" demanded Diana. It was becoming a refrain. 

"I'm filling in," said Mozzie, drawing himself up to his full, unimpressive height. "They were short-handed. You do realize your date works for Congressman Scoppa-Misarti? The same Scoppa-Misarti whose father was one of the architects of COINTELPRO."

"So?" Diana got a horrible cold sinking feeling. "Tell me you're not interested in me romantically." She almost choked on the words, but it was the most obvious explanation for Mozzie's apparent determination to ruin all her dates.

Thankfully, Mozzie looked as appalled as she felt. "I swear on Teddy's life. I'm only taking an interest because you seem incapable of vetting your own paramours, and someone has to keep Teddy safe from associating with the less salubrious elements which so freely abound in our nation's capital."

"I keep him safe," said Diana. "I do. It's my job. Now butt out." She glanced around. Erika was back on her phone.

"I can't," said Mozzie. "Giorgio, the maître d', is counting on me."

"I don't care. I don't want you or anyone overseeing my love life! It's patronizing and paternalistic. I can take care of myself."

Mozzie had the gall to look offended. He huffed. "Fine. I'll swap sections with Bridie, but I warn you now, she can't remember the fish of the day, and she's vindictive. If she doesn't like you, there's no telling what she'll put in your salad."

"Ugh!" Diana scowled at him and stalked back to the table. Erika wasn't looking at her phone anymore. Erika had clearly been watching her. 

"Someone you know?"

"Old acquaintance. It's a long story." Diana didn't want to talk about Mozzie or explain how she'd come to know him. "He keeps sticking his nose into my life and claiming it's for my own good. And no, before you ask, it's not like that. He is the literal opposite of my type." She saw a second question start to form and headed it off at the pass. "And he's not Theo's father. I went to a clinic."

"Smart move," said Erika, but her smile had cooled. 

True to form, Mozzie had managed to ruin another date, just by existing in Diana's vicinity. At this rate, she was going to be single forever.

 

**4.**

New York City had been full of people who'd moved there partly to shed their old lives—and their families. Jones spoke to his mom in Philly about once a month; Elizabeth's parents were in Illinois and had only visited twice in the entire time Diana had known her and Peter; Peter's family lived in upstate New York, but they might as well have been in Illinois too. Diana was bucking the trend by relocating to be closer to hers. 

She'd long since forgiven them for leaving her to Charlie's care during her childhood—she of all people understood what it was to have a job that consumed one's life at the expense of everything else—and forgiven them again for what happened to him. She was an adult now, made doubly independent by her upbringing, and her dad was retired and, thus, available. She wanted to get to know him and her mom on equal terms. She wanted Theo to know his grandparents. 

But when they looked at her, they didn't see an equal; they saw their baby, in need of the advice and guidance they hadn't had time to spare in the past. It was infuriating, and even as she tried to be grateful for all they were doing, she spent half her time being cranky with them and feeling guilty for craving distance. 

When it came down to it, her parents had each other, and she had Theo, her cautious, curious, generous-hearted boy, who she loved more than she'd ever loved anything or anyone. Why had she bothered trying to date? She had Theo—she didn't need anyone else.

 

*

 

Diana's mom leaned in the bedroom doorway and watched her pack up her things. For a moment, Diana feared they were going to rehash the same conversation they'd been having the last two weeks, since Diana had found her new place—there was plenty of space here; didn't Diana find it so convenient having live-in childcare?; did she really want to live in Hyattsville?; the new place looked so small in the photos online, and Theo was a growing boy—but after a moment, her mom just said, "Are you taking those old boxes from the attic too?"

"What old boxes?"

"The ones you left here after college. I don't know what's in them." She came further into the room. "What time is your friend arriving tomorrow?"

Jones was driving down to help with the move. Diana's parents had offered to cover the cost of professional movers, but Jones had insisted it would be just as easy to hire a van, and she'd agreed, mostly because it would give them a chance to catch up.

"Around ten." Diana put the last of her shoes into a box and went to give her mom a hug. "It's been great being here. You know I appreciate it, but it's time for us to make our own home now."

"I know, darling." Her mom's hair was fading to ash blonde, and her pale skin was lined, but she was only in her early sixties, and her grip on Diana's arm was firm. It wasn't like she needed Diana to look after her. She gave a forced smile. "You'd think I'd be used to you leaving home by now, but you're still my baby, and whenever I watch the news—tragedies happening every day, black boys being shot for no reason—I just want to keep you and Theo safe."

"I know, Mom." Diana kissed her mom's cheek. She did know. Becoming a parent had brought the dangers of the world into sharp focus, but she couldn't spend her life dwelling on that or she'd go crazy. "We'll be fine, I promise."

"You're still going to bring Theo to church with us every second Sunday?"

"I said I would." That had been Diana's concession in exchange for moving out. Not that it was a sacrifice: she wasn't much of a churchgoer herself, but it was important to her parents, and Theo liked the singing and the stained glass apostles. "You know, it's not as if we're moving out of state. You'll still see Theo on weekdays."

"Of course," said her mom. She put her shoulders back and looked around. "What can I do to help?"

"Show me where those old boxes are," said Diana.

 

*

 

The next morning, to Diana's surprise, a car and a moving van pulled up outside. Jones and Rosalie climbed out of the van, and Peter, Neal and Elizabeth emerged from the car and started extricating little Mikey from his car seat.

Diana took Theo's hand and went out to meet them. "What's going on? What are you all doing here?"

"We're your moving crew," said Peter, smiling. "Hey, there, little buddy. Remember me?" He bent down to say hi to Theo, who hesitated but, with encouragement from Diana, gave Peter a solemn hug.

"Many hands." Neal picked up Mikey, who was chatting unintelligibly to his old bear, and sat him on his shoulders. "The van is courtesy of Moz. He knows a guy." Mikey dropped the bear and reached around to pull Neal's beard, giggling delightedly when Neal caught his hands and pretended to eat them.

"Mozzie's not here himself?" Diana glanced toward the van to check he wasn't lurking in the shadows there.

Elizabeth picked up the bear and dusted it off. "He's not even in the country."

"Of course. The one time he could actually be of use, he's AWOL." Diana snorted and looked around, and the stress of moving day evaporated. "You guys didn't have to do this, but wow, it's great to see you."

"Likewise," said Peter. "Where do you want to start?"

"Well, I've got some boxes and suitcases here, and the rest of my stuff is in storage in Hyattsville, but the big thing is Theo's room." She lowered her voice, glad that Theo was distracted by Mikey's presence. "I haven't packed it yet, and I'd rather not take him to the new place until his room is set up there. My parents have a charity gala in an hour, so if one of you could keep an eye on him, I can—"

"I've got a better idea," interrupted Elizabeth. "How about you and I and Rosalie take the kids somewhere for brunch, while the boys pack Theo's room, load your stuff into the van, and recreate Theo's room at the other end. Think you can handle that, babe?" She winked at Neal.

He grinned back. "My first forge—uh, replica of a child's bedroom."

Peter smirked and clapped him on the back. Jones rolled his eyes. Diana laughed and said, "I can't leave you guys to do all the heavy lifting."

"Yeah, you can," said Jones. "Don't worry, there'll be plenty to do at the other end."

Diana quashed a surge of emotion. "You'd better come in then. I have to introduce you to my parents, if you're going to be tromping through their house."

 

*

 

Nine hours later, they were practically done. The furniture was in place, Rosalie and Clinton had unpacked the kitchen while Neal hung Diana's photos and art prints at her direction, and Peter had arranged the books and DVDs. Diana refused to let the others unpack her personal things—she had to draw the line somewhere—and the kids were getting noisy and restless, so they called it a day. Diana, El and Rosalie collapsed in the living room, Neal and Peter went and played with the kids in the yard, and Clinton made coffee. Diana patted her old couch affectionately.

"Oh, I have to get this for Mikey," said El, who was browsing through Theo's plastic crate of picture books. "And this one." She held up _Good Night, Gorilla_ and _The Colors of Us_.

"Theo used to love _Good Night, Gorilla_ ," said Diana. "Now he just wants Dr. Seuss and _The Animal Boogie_ over and over and over." Clinton came through with a tray and handed her a cup of coffee, and she sighed with gratitude. "Thanks."

"Anytime." He sat on the floor by Rosalie's feet and leaned against her chair. 

"It's a great place," said Rosalie, gesturing to the room. "And with that playground around the corner, too."

"Thanks." The house was modest, but it was clean and light, and plenty big enough for her and Theo. "The real estate agent took one look at this black single mom and asked if I was sure I could afford it," she added, wryly, knowing Rosalie would get it.

Rosalie narrowed her eyes. "I hope you gave him hell."

"I called him on it, and he said he was 'concerned for our well-being.'" Diana shook her head. "It's a lot harder with Theo around. I get madder because he's a little kid, how can they say that stuff in front of him, but I can't get all up in their faces about it because I have to be there for _him_." It was only going to get worse as he got older and better understood the slights and insults. 

"You want to keep them innocent as long as you can, don't you?" said El, sympathetically. "I wish he could live in a happy bubble, where all adults are good and kind and have his best interests at heart."

It was a well-intentioned daydream, but so removed from reality—and its futility so unjust—that Diana felt a gulf open between them, even deeper because Elizabeth didn't realize it was there. No realtor, looking at El, would assume she was a bad financial bet or feign sympathy while asking if Mikey's father was "still in the picture." Theo wouldn't experience the world the way Mikey did, as a fair, forgiving place, and as the boys grew, El wouldn't have to worry or defend her son the way Diana would hers. Not that Diana would wish that hardship on her friends, not ever. 

She was saved from responding by Theo bursting inside and running over to fling himself into her lap, nearly upsetting her coffee. She set it aside just in time and gave him a cuddle. "A quick dinner, then it's time for bed, Doorbell. I think you can skip the bath this once."

"I'll send the guys to go get us grown-ups some food," said El. "No, I insist. There's an Ethiopian restaurant not far from here I'm dying to try out, to see if they're as good as I've heard. I'd go myself, but I think Mikey will need feeding."

"You don't have to get back to the city?" Diana had assumed this was a day trip, though thinking about it now, it was too far for them to have come just to help her move, especially with Mikey.

"We're taking this little guy to the Smithsonian tomorrow," said Peter, coming in with Mikey under his arm. 

Neal was right behind them, with grass stains on his khakis. "You should come with."

"Sounds great." She'd meant to spend the rest of the weekend settling into her new place and stocking up on food, and her parents were planning to come over to see the house for themselves, but the chance to spend time with the rest of the White Collar alumni, as Neal insisted on calling them, was too good to pass up. Her parents could wait, and she could unpack anytime.

"By the way, the latch on your gate is loose," said Peter. "I'll fix it tomorrow."

Diana struck an attitude. "Are you saying I can't do it myself?"

"I wouldn't dare." Peter held up his hands in surrender and poured himself a cup of coffee. 

"Hon." El dangled the car keys in front of her. "I'll swap you Mikey for some Ethiopian takeout."

"I'll go," said Neal, resting his hand on Peter's shoulder. "You guys take a load off."

"Could you stop off and pick up some beer?" Diana dug in her purse and gave him some cash. 

"Sure you wouldn't prefer a couple of nice bottles of red—?" started Neal. Diana shook her head, and he grimaced good-naturedly. "Beer. Got it."

 

*

 

After dinner, which was delicious, they went back to sitting around the living room, this time with beer—and in Neal's and El's case, wine—instead of coffee. Theo was tucked up in bed in his new room, which despite having slightly different dimensions, looked as if it had been teleported in its entirety from her parents' place. Mikey was sprawled asleep on a mat in the corner. 

Diana sighed contentedly. The day had been one of first memories, starting the process of making the house a home. "Seriously," she said, "thank you guys for everything."

"It's our pleasure," said Peter, from his place next to El on the long couch. 

"Seriously," added Clinton with a grin. He and Rosalie had swapped places: he was in the chair, and she sat on the floor, leaning back against it, her arm resting on his leg. 

Neal was looking through Diana's CD collection, which had previously been in storage in her parents' attic. He put on Tracy Chapman and went to sit next to El as the opening bars of "Fast Car" played through the stereo.

Diana finished her beer and considered having another, but she was too tired. She'd fall straight asleep. Instead she leaned back in her chair and looked at the Burkes and Neal. "Okay, so tell me, what is up with Mozzie? Is he just really bored now you've retired?" She pointed her bottle at Neal. "Because far be it from me to promote a criminal lifestyle, but can't you do something to keep him busy? He's driving me crazy."

"He's not bored," said El. "He's flat out—running a legitimate business, filing paperwork, paying his taxes. Plus there's Sara."

"Sara?"

"Didn't you hear?" said Clinton. "Mozzie and Sara Ellis are—" He crossed his fingers.

It took a moment for the gesture—and the concept—to register. "You're kidding." Diana glanced at Neal, glad to find him untroubled. 

"They're together, but it's long distance. She's still based in London. He's in Europe with her as we speak," said El. "I think they were going to Catalonia this time."

"Wow. That's." Diana tried to picture it and failed. "I did not see that coming."

"No one saw that coming." Peter reached along the back of the couch to ruffle Neal's hair.

Neal shrugged. "They're happy. How is he driving you crazy?"

"Oh, just by gate-crashing all my dates, wreaking disaster on my non-existent love life," said Diana. "And if he's not bored, I don't understand _why_."

Neal grinned. "If it's any consolation, he used to do the same to me all the time."

"Do what?"

"Stress-test my dates. He said if a relationship couldn't withstand a little innocent disruption, it would never survive our, uh, unconventional lifestyle." Neal drank a mouthful of wine. "Of course, Mozzie's idea of innocent disruption…"

"Maybe he was trying to break up you and Sara Ellis," said Clinton, drily.

"He wouldn't. Anyway, he did it with Rebecca too. I mean, Rachel." 

"Aw, he's looking out for you," Peter told Diana.

"It's kind of sweet, if you look at it like that," said El.

Rosalie was frowning. "I think it's kind of entitled, isn't it? Why didn't you tell him to get lost?"

"He's my friend," said Neal simply. "I owe him a thousand times over."

"Okay, but I mean, it's one thing to butt in to your best friend's love life—" Rosalie looked at Diana. "How well do you even know the guy?"

Diana wrinkled her nose. "Ah, that's a long story."

"Which I'll thank you to neither confirm nor deny in my presence," said Peter.

El snickered, and Rosalie looked confused and glanced at Clinton.

"I tell you later," he murmured, sending Peter a teasing look. Then he smirked at Diana. "Next time you have a date lined up, let me know and I'll have Mozzie… detained."

"You mean arrested?" El's eyes widened comically. "You can't arrest Mozzie—he'd break out in hives."

"Pretty sure you don't have grounds," said Neal.

"Oh, I don't know." Clinton cleared his throat. "I can think of a couple of things. Diana, you just have to say the word."

"Don't tempt me." She laughed and shook her head, then rolled her beer bottle between her palms. "Not that there'll be an opportunity any time soon."

"Aw, dating not going so well?" Peter looked sympathetic.

"Don't give up," said Neal. "Sometimes miracles happen when you're least expecting them."

Diana's gaze drifted to the paintings of Lulu on the wall by the stereo. "I've already got my miracle."

 

**5.**

A week later, a sunny Saturday morning, Theo was building a tower of blocks in the yard with great concentration. Diana ducked inside to get tumblers of water and cut up some oranges for a snack. She put on Lauryn Hill and turned up the volume, enjoying the freedom of being in her own place. It had taken Theo a few days to get used to it—the first couple of nights, he'd woken repeatedly, crying and demanding, "Want to go home," but he seemed settled now and kept asking to go to the neighborhood playground. He'd already made friends with a couple of the kids that played there in the late afternoons, and he was usually shy with strangers.

She picked up the water and the plate of orange wedges, but when she went back out, the yard was empty. Had he slipped inside while her back was turned, to get one of his toys or use the bathroom? They'd gone through potty training a few months ago, and he was increasingly independent. 

"Theo? Hey, Doorbell, where are you?"

She put down the glasses and plate and hurried inside, calling for him, but he wasn't there. When she went back out, she realized the rope she'd used to secure the gate-post was hanging loose. Her heart started pounding. 

Dammit! Peter had said the gate latch needed fixing, and she'd bought a replacement but hadn't made time to install it yet, so she'd tied the gate shut with some rope in the meantime. It was still tied, but loose enough that the gate could open a few inches. Was that enough of a gap for Theo to squeeze through? Anyone could have come by and pulled the rope free. They could have taken him! He could be anywhere!

She ran down the side of the house onto the sidewalk and swept the street with her gaze, calling his name louder and louder and trying to guess where he might have gone, trying not to panic, reaching for her phone to call the police or the Bureau, her parents or even Peter or Clinton. Trying to think. There had to be a clue, some sign of where he'd gone, who'd taken him—

At least there was almost no traffic on their quiet little street, so if he had gotten out by himself, that was one less danger, but right now that was small consolation. _Where was he?_ She couldn't leave the house empty in case he found his way back, but she had to go find him!

She looked around again and started toward the corner, dialing her parents as she went. None of the neighbors were in their yards; there was no one to ask if they'd seen him. In the distance, a dog was barking, lawn mowers growling, but the only sound nearby was cicadas. Diana raised her phone to her ear. "Hi, Mom?"

She was hoarse and breathless. And then Theo turned the corner toward her, holding hands with a tall thin stranger, and Diana's world turned right-side up again. 

"I'll call you back," she said into the phone and hung up, swallowing the curses that sprang to her lips, the remnants of her fear. "Theodore Charlie! Where on earth have you been?"

Theo pulled away from the stranger and ran toward her, bursting into tears. "Mommy! I wanted to go to the park."

He seemed more frustrated than scared, but his crying was loud and real. She lifted him into her arms, shushing him and hugged him tight. "I was so worried about you, baby."

She couldn't even tell him off. He was too young to understand what he'd done, and it was her own fault the gate wasn't secure. But her heart was still racing, and she clutched him tight, her eyes stinging with her own tears, half from sympathy and half residual fear.

"Cage walked me home," he sobbed in her ear. Then his tears stopped as quickly as they'd begun. He started talking about Lulu and a cat, and struggled, wanting to get down. "Ow, too tight." But Diana held firm. She wasn't letting go until she had him safely home.

The stranger came closer, and now Diana was recovering from the fright, she took a real look at—him or her? She couldn't tell. Short, neat dreadlocks, almost knots, stood up on their head, and they were about Diana's age, maybe a little younger, wearing a loose, pale pink tank top and baggy brown shorts over their narrow frame. Regardless of what Diana's mom thought, the pink didn't prove anything.

"You must be Cage," said Diana. 

"Cage wants to see Lulu," said Theo. "Mom, he's wearing a pink t-shirt."

"It's KJ," the stranger told Theo, patiently, their voice as indeterminate as their appearance. "And I'm a 'they,' not a 'he.'" Their lips quirked into something not quite a smile, somehow confident and wary at the same time, and they stepped back and gave Diana an easy shrug. "I'm nonbinary. I live around the corner. Theo and I got to talking when he came by my house, didn't we, little dude? So I asked him to show me where he lives. Figured he's too small to be going on adventures by himself."

"Yeah, no kidding," said Diana, assessing KJ with new eyes. "The latch on my gate is broken. Thank you so much for bringing him home. I was about to declare DEFCON 1." She held out her hand. "I'm Diana, Theo's mom."

KJ's shake was firm, warm. Not female or male, but Diana couldn't help trying to resolve them into one or the other, despite herself—lips dark and full like a woman's, eyebrows like a man's, armpits unshaven, nose— Diana shut down that line of thinking, embarrassed, not to mention Theo was still struggling to get free. "Well, we should—" She jerked her head back toward the house.

"KJ's coming to see Lulu," said Theo again. "He promised."

"Only if that's okay with your mom." KJ raised their eyebrows, and Diana relaxed and smiled at them, person to person, chagrinned to find herself blushing. KJ had brought Theo back to her, which was what mattered, and given Theo's nature, it was significant that the two of them had made friends in the few minutes they'd known each other. KJ seemed grounded, comfortable with themself. Diana instinctively trusted them. And it was good for Theo to have friends in the neighborhood. Good for Diana too.

"Sure, we'd like that, wouldn't we, Theo?" They started walking back. "But Theo-Dorable, KJ just said they're not a 'he.' Say 'they' when you talk about them."

"Why?" Theo twisted around to interrogate KJ.

"Everyone's different," said KJ. "Everyone gets to decide for themself how people should talk about them."

Theo looked serious, thinking this through. "You look like a boy."

"Well, I'm not," said KJ, easily, and laughed at Diana's grimace. "Don't worry about it. Kids say stuff."

"Okay," said Theo, in response to KJ. "They. You're wearing pink. Do you like girl stuff?"

"I like some girl stuff and some boy stuff," said KJ. "It's a mix."

"Sorry for making you a teaching moment," murmured Diana.

KJ shrugged. "It's okay. I'm everybody's teaching moment." 

"That must suck." Diana had come out long before marriage equality was a thing, and she'd been met with a lot of blank incomprehension and tactless questions, especially from her parents' diplomat friends and their families. It had taken a while to hone her glare to the point where people didn't try to tell her it was a phase or a poor lifestyle choice. She guessed gender identity politics was still stuck in the nineties. 

"It is what it is. Those were pretty good questions, actually." KJ grinned at Theo and high-fived him. KJ seemed at peace with the questions around their identity, or mellowed by the warm weekend day, with cicadas singing, and the trees casting pools of dappled shade. Theo was explaining how they'd just moved to the neighborhood and telling KJ about the playground. A couple of teenagers rode by on bikes, calling to each other.

Diana became aware of how thirsty she was. "I cut up some fruit—that's if the ants haven't got it yet."

"The ants are really bad this year," agreed KJ. "So, who is Lulu? We didn't get into details. I'm guessing a rabbit or a dog? Maybe a giant grasshopper?"

"A My Little Pony. Her full name is Princess Luna," said Diana, turning down the side of the house to the open gate. "Please don't mention bronies."

KJ laughed, then paused in their tracks, listening to the music coming from inside the house. "Aw, Lauryn Hill."

For a second, Diana flipped into thinking of KJ as a woman. She corrected herself firmly. "Blast from the past, right?" She put Theo down and sent him inside to get Lulu.

"I had a huge crush on her, once upon a time, long, long ago." KJ hummed along for a moment. "My roommate, Shonna, still plays this sometimes."

"We were staying with my parents for a couple of months while I found a place, and when we moved out, Mom gave me a couple of old boxes of my stuff, including my old CDs, so I've been getting nostalgic and introducing Theo to Mary J. Blige and Grace Jones." 

"Nice," said KJ. "Got any Missy Elliot?"

"I think so." Diana picked up the plate of orange wedges. There were a couple of ants doing recon; she flicked them off and took that piece for herself, then offered the plate to KJ.

"Thanks." KJ took a bite, and a thin line of juice trickled down their chin. They wiped it with their wrist before it could drip, then licked their wrist clean, their tongue pink against their dark skin. "Ha, I'm making such a mess."

Diana dragged her gaze away and bit into her own wedge. The juice was sweetly tangy and refreshing. "I have a three-year-old. You don't even know mess." 

On cue, Theo ran out of the house clutching Lulu. KJ was quick to crouch down and be introduced to the toy, treating the occasion with due solemnity. The two of them seemed to have formed a fast friendship. 

Diana signaled she was going inside for a second, KJ nodded, and Diana went and put Missy Elliot's _So Addictive_ on the stereo and got the new gate latch and the toolbox. As soon as KJ left, Diana was fixing that gate so Theo couldn't get out again. It had worked out okay this time, but next time they might not be so lucky.

 

*

 

Diana's mom called that afternoon when Diana was putting Theo down for his nap. "You said you'd call back."

"Sorry," said Diana. "Everything's fine. Theo and I wanted to invite you and Dad for dinner tomorrow." The invitation was mostly intended to distract Diana's mom from the morning's panicked call, and it worked.

"Of course, darling," said Diana's mom. "We've been expecting to come over and see the place for ourselves. Four-thirty?"

"Sounds great." Diana hung up, drew the curtains and sat on the edge of Theo's bed in the dark. "Grandma and Grandpa are coming to see us tomorrow. Won't that be nice? You can show them your new room."

Theo had been tracing the dinosaur pattern on his bedspread with his finger and telling himself a story, but he stopped when Diana sat down. "Can Mozzie come? And Cage? I like Cage."

"KJ. Me too," said Diana. KJ had left after being introduced to Lulu and eating a couple more slices of orange. They'd cited weekend plans, and Diana was kicking herself for not getting their number in a casual, friendly neighbors' way. They were neighbors. They could have been friends. "I don't think Mozzie or KJ are coming tomorrow. But it'll be good to see Grandma and Grandpa, won't it?"

"Yeah. Will there be cake?" 

"There might be, if you're lucky." 

Theo's eyes widened, like a starving puppy's. "Can we have cake now? Lulu's hungry."

She kissed him. "Nap time, Doorbell."

"But I haven't told you about the butterfly. It had orange spots on its wings, and it—"

"You can tell me after your nap."

Theo sighed and closed his eyes. "'Kay."

Diana went into the living room and collapsed on the couch. After the ups and downs of the morning, she could use a nap too. But instead of sleeping, she lay there hugging a cushion and thinking about KJ, and what it meant to be female. Diana had never questioned it for herself, not for a second. Getting crushes on girls, sex with women, being pregnant and giving birth and being a mom—they all felt like natural parts of her. Did that prove anything, or was that like wearing a pink tank top?

And would she feel differently about KJ, if KJ were a girl? If their bright grin and relaxed goofiness belonged to an androgynous woman, and the chemistry between them could be explained away as lesbian attraction? _I'd fall in love with her,_ she thought, and the certainty of it took her by surprise. It was unsettling. It felt insulting. KJ wasn't a woman, and Diana had to respect that.

And she was a lesbian. She had plenty of close, uncomplicated friendships with guys; it should be like that with KJ too.

 

*

 

"Nice place, princess," said her father, the next afternoon. 

"Don't sound so surprised," said Diana wryly, waving him toward the long couch.

"Well, we haven't seen it decorated before. Only the photos on the real estate agents' website." Her mom put a box on the coffee table and handed Diana a cake. "I brought a few things to make the place homey. Think of them as house-warming gifts."

"Thanks, Mom." Diana decided to check out the gifts later. Her mom's taste didn't always match her own, and Diana already had everything she needed, but her mom meant well. She put the cake in the kitchen.

Her father was doing a circuit of the living room, looking out all the windows. 

"It was good of your friends to come down and help you move," said her mom. "Where's Theo?"

"Yeah, it was." Diana went to the hallway and called Theo from his bedroom, and he came running out with his new bubble wand. 

"Ooh, what's this?" Diana's father knelt down to greet him, making Diana and her mom both grin at them. They looked so alike.

"How was the Laffertys' charity gala?" asked Diana, but before her mom could reply, there was a knock at the back door, and Diana went to answer it. 

KJ was on the stoop wearing sunglasses and bearing a plate of cupcakes with chocolate icing, and Diana couldn't help a warm sense of rightness at the sight of them standing there. As if they were friends. "Hi! I'm glad you came by."

KJ had been sporting that confident-yet-wary attitude again, but at Diana's welcome, they pushed their sunglasses onto their head and relaxed into an answering smile. "I made these for Theo—you know, to welcome y'all to the neighborhood."

Diana had to tease, "Wow, you made these? I didn't think anyone baked anymore."

"I like it. It's creative and delicious. Best of both worlds." KJ shrugged, loose and self-conscious as a teenage boy. They were wearing another tank top, this one yellow, and green harem pants, and their shoulders looked warm and smooth in the afternoon sun. 

Diana took the cupcakes. "Well, we appreciate it," she said. "My parents are here, just to warn you, but you should come in. Theo will want to say hi and thank you for the cupcakes, and I—" She hesitated, trying to come up with an excuse to ask for KJ's phone number, or their full name so she could find them on Facebook. It was frustrating knowing they lived nearby but not having any way to contact them—but at the same time, she didn't know anything about KJ's life. They might be busy or in a relationship. They might not have time for a friend, especially not a mom with a toddler.

Of course, the cupcakes implied otherwise. She was overthinking. KJ made her flustered, and she wasn't sure if it was awkwardness about KJ's gender, or embarrassment from having imagined them as a girl, or plain old attraction.

KJ was waiting for her to finish the sentence.

"We should swap phone numbers," said Diana. "Come on inside."

KJ preceded her through to the living room, where Theo shouted, "KJ!" and Diana's father said slowly, "My goodness, Kayla Ashbrook, is that you?"

For a split second, KJ physically recoiled, nearly bumping into Diana who was right behind them, and then something shifted and they gave a strained, unfamiliar smile, and said, "Mr. and Mrs. Berrigan. How have you been?"

KJ's stance had shifted too. Their shoulders had softened, they were clutching their hands together, and their voice was higher pitched: they looked and sounded unmistakably feminine now, and unmistakably uncomfortable. It was a painful contrast to the KJ Diana and Theo had met yesterday.

"Look, Valerie, it's the Ashbrook girl," said Diana's father. 

Realization tumbled into place, leaving Diana stunned. Kayla Ashbrook was a ghost, practically an urban legend. Diana's parents had known the Ashbrooks since the nineties. They were part of the diplomatic scene, and their daughter, who'd been four or five years younger than Diana, had eschewed the many formal events associated with her parents' work. Diana was fairly sure they'd never met, but she'd known of her. Of KJ. She'd heard the rumors when they ran away at sixteen, leaving only a note. "Are you—?"

"You know, Kayla, your parents have been worried sick about you for years and years," said Valerie, not unkindly. "I'm very glad to see you're well, but you really must go and see them."

KJ shook their head, more in disbelief than refusal, and Diana bristled on their behalf, wanting to champion them, tell her parents to stop saying "girl" and "Kayla," but she couldn't out KJ without asking, and even as she opened her mouth to say _something_ , KJ was backing toward the door. 

"I have to go," they said, their voice dropping a register. "Bye, Theo."

"We're going to have cake. KJ should stay for cake," said Theo, looking from KJ to his grandparents and back.

"I can't." KJ glanced at Diana, their gaze blank, and Diana didn't have the heart to try and persuade them to stay. Her parents were protesting and asking questions, talking about the Ashbrooks, but Diana nodded her understanding. 

KJ almost ran out of the house. Diana was still holding the cupcakes.

"Diana," said her father, "what is going on?"

"We have to call Sonya." Her mother was already scrolling through her phone.

"No phone calls," said Diana, sternly enough to get their attention. She bent down to Theo. "Go play in your room for a moment, okay, Doorbell? If you're good, you can have a cupcake afterwards."

"Two cakes," said Doorbell. "I want one now."

"One in ten minutes and another one after dinner, but only if you do what I say now," said Diana. "Go on. Play with your train set." She hustled him toward his room before he could decide to make a fuss, waited for the sound of his bedroom door closing, then came back and faced her parents. "You can't call the Ashbrooks."

Diana's father was standing by the bookcase, hands on his hips. "If Theo ran away to New York as a young teenager, and one of your friends there saw him, you'd expect them to let you know he's okay."

"Not if they could convince him to call me himself," said Diana. "Let me talk to K—Kayla first." She felt uncomfortable using KJ's old name, but her parents seemed blind to KJ's gender, and she'd have a better chance convincing them if she used their words. 

"That's not good enough, Diana," said her mother. "Give me her phone number now, so I can pass it on to Sonya. You can't imagine what they've been through."

"I don't have KJ's contact details." This was the furthest thing from a date, but for once Diana actually wished Mozzie would pop out of the woodwork and derail the conversation. He could change the subject just by existing. But no such luck. "Look, I understand the Ashbrooks are worried about her, but another week isn't going to make any difference. I'm serious, you have to let me handle this." 

"How will you get in touch with her, if you don't know where she lives?" said her mom.

Diana had a plan. "I'll find her."

Her mother was weakening, but her father looked stubborn. "What gives you the right to stand between a father and his only daughter after—"

"Wayne, maybe we should do as she says," said her mom. "After all, if we give Kayla a fright, she'll probably run away again. We know how unstable she is. Look how she bolted out the door just now. And then they won't have a chance to see her at all."

Diana pressed her lips together, unwilling to argue when her mom was on her side, even though the charge of instability rankled on KJ's behalf. She raised her eyebrows at her father and backed up her position with her best federal agent attitude, forcing him to deal with her on her terms.

"One week," he said with obvious reluctance. "I'm playing golf with Jefferson next Saturday, and if he hasn't heard by then, I'll tell him myself. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?"

"One week," said Diana. It wasn't the total capitulation she'd hoped for, but being equals meant making compromises. "I'm holding you to that. Now, Dad, why don't you go and get Theo? I have to check on dinner."

 

*

 

The next day after work, she took Theo for a walk through the neighborhood. He was pushing his stroller with Lulu in the seat, and as they went around the corner, he said, "Can we go see Mozzie?"

"Mozzie doesn't live around here, baby," said Diana. "I'll text him later and ask if he wants to come down from New York to visit you soon. Today we're going to KJ's house—can you remember where that is?"

"By the cat," said Theo, which didn't sound very promising, but a few minutes' walk down the street and a rendition of one of the songs from _Yo Gabba Gabba_ later, they came to a letterbox with a black and white cat painted on it.

"Is this it?" Diana looked at the house. It was small and neat, with pots of herbs by the door and two loungers on the front lawn with a concrete block between them for a table. The door and windows were open, and "Uptown Funk" was playing loudly inside.

A plump tabby cat lay in the sun on the front path.

Theo abandoned the stroller and went up to pet the cat, which flexed its claws warily but didn't run away. 

"Gently, Doorbell," said Diana. "Be gentle." She showed him how to stroke the kitty without ruffling its fur, then took his hand and the stroller, and they went to knock on the door. Her stomach fluttered.

The woman who answered was short and curvy and pretty, in an old sundress, with a tattoo on her shoulder and paint under her fingernails. Diana liked her immediately, but she was definitely not KJ. The woman cocked her hip and folded her arms. "Let me guess—Diana and Theo, right? I'm Shonna. I use 'she' and 'her.'"

Another cat, this one small and black with wide amber eyes, was watching inquisitively from behind Shonna, and Theo pulled at Diana's hand, trying to get to it.

"Nice to meet you," said Diana, holding him tight. "Is KJ here? We brought back the cupcake plate."

"KJ's still at work, probably won't get home for another hour." Shonna took the plate. "I'll tell them you came by."

"Are they okay?" Diana would rather have checked in with KJ themself, and she wasn't sure she'd get a chance to now.

But Shonna snorted cheerfully. "They're fine. Just embarrassed." She regarded Diana. "Did you know about the connection with your parents?"

"I had no idea. I really didn't mean to ambush KJ." Diana spread her hands. Shonna seemed to know the whole story, and Diana wasn't sure if she were being protective or warning Diana off. Hell, if things were different, Diana might well be flirting with Shonna, who seemed warm and grounded, and if also gay and single, everything Diana should have wanted, but it was too late for that. Diana gave Shonna her business card. "Anyway, please tell KJ we were here, and this is my number and email."

"Kitty," called Theo, still trying to get the black cat to come closer.

"His name is Trinket," said Shonna. "And that's Rhu on the path, short for Rhubarb." She bent down to talk to Theo directly. "Did you like the cupcakes?"

"Uh-huh," said Theo, suddenly shy. He hid behind Diana's legs, much as Trinket was hiding behind Shonna. 

Shonna and Diana exchanged a grin, and Shonna stood up again. "It was good to meet you, Diana. I'll give KJ your card." 

 

*

 

After she put Theo to bed, Diana sent Mozzie a text message telling him to get in touch and then tried to chill out on the couch and watch _Nikita_ on Netflix, but she was too restless for even Maggie Q to hold her attention. She tried working for a while, but that couldn't keep her interest either. Facebook and Twitter and her usual online hangouts were similarly uninspiring. She felt sick with waiting.

Any story she'd told herself that she didn't want to date, that she was satisfied filling up her life with work and being a mom, was just that—a story. Her dates with Leila and Erika hadn't been disasters because of Mozzie, but because she hadn't felt anything for them. She hadn't cared when they'd called it quits, had almost been relieved. Last week she'd seen Leila in the same sandwich shop, overheard her at the counter telling another customer, "No kidding, I'm a vegetarian too!" and Diana had just rolled her eyes and moved away to wait by the window, looking out at people passing in the street. 

She'd been starting to believe she'd never care about anyone in that way again—that giddy passion and powerful desire. That she'd outgrown it. Now she almost wished she had.

There was an unopened bottle of red wine on the kitchen counter next to the microwave, and most of a ridiculously expensive sauvignon blanc in the refrigerator. If she didn't drink the latter soon, it would turn to vinegar. One glass wouldn't hurt.

Someone knocked on the front door as she was savoring her first mouthful, and she jumped, nearly spilling the wine down her front. 

It was KJ, hands sunk deep in their pockets, but otherwise calm and self-possessed. "Hey."

"Hey." Diana hid her own less-than-nonchalant reaction and held up her glass. "You want one? Courtesy of an allegedly reformed con artist with very rarified tastes."

KJ grinned. "That sounds like a tale worth telling. Sure."

They came in, and Diana ushered KJ into the living room and went to pour a second glass of sav. When she returned, KJ was looking at the photos on the wall, and the silence felt too loud, so Diana set iTunes on shuffle and sat on the couch, closing her laptop and making space. 

KJ joined her, not sitting too close, one hand still in their pocket. "So, you're Diana Berrigan. You know, my parents loved you. They were always trying to get me to meet you, so I could be like you."

Diana made a face, half apology. "What are the odds?"

KJ wrinkled their nose. "I don't believe in fate."

"Neither do I," said Diana, but it was a hell of a coincidence, and she still felt like she was holding her breath. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't know."

"How could you?" KJ shrugged it off. "Tell me about the con artist and the wine."

Diana laughed and curled her legs up under her, settling into the corner of the couch. "Well, that's a long story. It started when I was in New York the first time, working in the FBI's White Collar division, and we were after a mysterious forger we called The Dutchman."

Recounting the saga of Neal's adventures with the White Collar division took the better part of an hour and another glass of wine each.

"Wait, he's dead?" said KJ, appalled, when Diana got to that part. KJ looked into their glass, as if the dregs of wine were a legacy. 

Diana shook her head. "Peter IDed the body and everything. He was a total mess, and he never got over it until we found out, a whole _year_ later, that Caffrey had faked his death. He set the whole thing up, bribed the paramedic and the coroner, took some kind of toxin to slow his heart rate. And that's when it really got strange." She grinned.

KJ eyed her suspiciously. "I think you're making this up."

"I swear on my life." Diana was slightly tipsy now. It had only been two glasses, but her alcohol tolerance had plummeted since Theo was born. "Once we found out he was still alive, living in Paris under an assumed name, we ran a con on him to make him come back, and the next thing I know, Peter's calling me to say he and Neal and Elizabeth are in love, and Neal's moving in with them." Diana shook her head. "Happy threesome families. No one saw that coming."

"So what you're saying is it's more of a Rainbow Collar division." KJ raised an eyebrow. "Wasn't Peter mad about the faked death?"

"Not as much as you'd think. I guess that should've been a clue it would all end in hearts and flowers." Diana blinked and looked away. Outside of the expurgated version in her policy document, she hadn't told anyone about the White Collar team or how much she missed them, and she barely knew KJ. "I'm talking too much." 

"No, you're not. I'm interested. I won't tell anyone." KJ nudged their knuckles lightly against her wrist.

It was the first time they'd touched, and everything beyond the two of them dimmed, leaving Diana unsteady and breathless. She was distantly aware that her phone was ringing in the kitchen, and KJ started to withdraw, but Diana make an inarticulate protest and caught their fingers, then immediately let go again, flushing. "Sorry, I—It's just my phone. Ignore it."

"Diana." KJ's voice was deeper than usual. They moved closer, and their throat shifted as they swallowed. Diana took their hand again, brushed her thumb across KJ's skin, warm and alluring and so confusing. The two of them were going to kiss, she could feel it coming as inevitable as night, and she'd never seriously kissed anyone who wasn't a woman before, but she wanted it with a sharp longing she hadn't felt in years. 

Her fingers drifted up to KJ's elbow and back down till they were palm to palm. KJ's lips parted, and Diana leaned in slowly to meet them halfway.

The phone rang again, bringing them both to a halt. "Let it ring," said Diana. 

"You should check. It might be important." KJ's breath puffed warm against her lips, then they pulled away.

Diana swallowed and sighed. "Hold that thought."

She found her phone in the kitchen and checked the display in disbelief. Was he psychic? She took the call. "Mozzie, I can't believe you! This is not a good time. What do you want?"

"You sent me a message," said Mozzie. "Is something wrong? Tell me Teddy's okay."

Diana hung her head. She'd forgotten she'd texted him earlier. "His name is Theo, and he's fine. Not that you'd know—you haven't been to see him in a month. He was asking after you today."

"Because he knows only I can teach him the survival skills he'll need to get by in life. This Saturday, National Gallery?"

"I'm not accompanying you to an art museum," said Diana. "How about the Butterfly Pavilion at the Museum of Natural History. I've been meaning to take him there anyway."

"Deal," said Mozzie. "We'll save the art for when he's older." 

_And has more of an appreciation of security systems_ was left unsaid, but Diana heard it anyway. She scowled. "Ten o'clock. Don't be late."

"At your royal command, princess."

Diana snorted and disconnected, her irritation at Mozzie's weirdness mixed with relief that he was prepared to make the effort to come and see Theo, and all of it tainted by his terrible timing. She put down her phone and turned to find KJ leaning in the doorway, listening, their eyebrows conveying curiosity.

"One of Theo's honorary uncles," explained Diana. "I gave birth in an underground safe house with no phone reception, and—That's another long story."

"So many stories," said KJ, with a grin. "You realize you're confirming all my prejudices about New York."

"It did get kind of crazy sometimes." Diana put down her phone and leaned back against the kitchen counter, resisting the attraction that was tugging at her like a magnet. Much as she wished otherwise, they should talk first, but the last subject she wanted to raise right now was her parents, especially given KJ's reaction to seeing them. She should ease into it. "So, you and Shonna—what's the story?"

"We met in Boston, and we've been roommates for years. She's family. When she got a job down here, I came too." KJ shrugged and, after silently asking permission, helped themself to a leftover cupcake from the container on the counter. They rested their free arm across the slight curve of their belly and licked at the chocolate frosting on the cake. "Why don't you ask what you really want to know?"

It was an open challenge, and Diana refused to flinch. "Okay. Why did you run away when you were sixteen?"

"It's complicated." KJ's gaze dropped, and their voice went quiet and distant. "I couldn't find myself in that world. I couldn't breathe. It was either run away or—I did think about ending it. It was a long time ago."

"I joined the FBI," said Diana. That, at least, earned her a dry laugh. They were both the children of diplomats, and neither of them had belonged in that life.

"How'd that work out?" said KJ.

"Surprisingly well. How did running away work for you?"

"Well, I'm still here." KJ took a bite of cake, scratched the corner of their mouth. "I met your bodyguard once."

"Charlie?" No one remembered Charlie except for her parents, and they never mentioned him. Diana ran herself a glass of water and asked, without looking around, "Where did you meet?"

"You were in a hotel room fighting with your parents about wanting to take a date to some party, and he was waiting for you outside. He was great. He made me laugh."

"He practically raised me." The memory still carried an ache. "He died in the line of duty."

Light footsteps, and then a hand landed on her shoulder. "I know. I'm sorry."

Diana closed her eyes. She wasn't usually an emotional person, but right now she felt raw and off-balance—Theo and Charlie, the complications with her and KJ's parents, the White Collar team being so far away, KJ so close. She covered KJ's hand, holding them there. Wished she could turn and hold them, but she couldn't keep back the words that were on her mind. "Listen, I don't know what's right for you. I really don't. I just know, as a mom, that if Theo ran away, even if he left a note, I'd assume the worst, and it would kill me knowing I hadn't kept him safe. Even worse than it wrecked Peter when he thought Neal had been shot."

KJ's grip tightened. Diana heard them swallow, saw them put the cupcake on the counter, unfinished. "I've actually been thinking about it since we moved back to D.C.," they said quietly. "About getting in touch with my parents."

Diana turned and took their hand in both of hers. KJ was taller than her and maybe even more independent, but Diana still felt protective. "I definitely don't want to push you if you're not ready, but—you should know that on Saturday, my dad is going to tell your dad he saw you. And, I don't know. I think your parents should get to see how great you turned out."

KJ smiled wryly, then sighed and looked away. They looked younger and vulnerable. "It's just, you know? Their lives, their world—they're so removed from my life. After all these years, I'd probably need an interpreter."

"Well, I'm available for the position if you want me." Diana had grown up in the society of diplomats and politicians and spent her adult life waving a rainbow flag. She was uniquely qualified for the role. 

KJ must have realized it too, because they started laughing. "Do you believe in fate now?"

"I'm starting to." Diana grinned, meeting their gaze, aware of them all over again.

But KJ was still contemplating their parents. They sobered, swallowed. "You know the hardest part is going to be dealing with their initial reaction. The last time I saw them, I was still wearing dresses and straightening my hair. Under sufferance, but still. This—" They gestured to themself. "It's going to come as a shock."

"You could send them some photos first. Show them who you are now," said Diana. "That's how I told my parents I was pregnant with Theo: I set up an Instagram account with sonogram pictures and photos of my pregnancy belly, and by the time I talked to them, they were so excited about being grandparents, they'd forgotten their reservations about my being a solo mom."

"Ha, sneaky," said KJ, appreciatively. "Like an art project—Ten Things About Me."

"Exactly." Diana drank some water and set her attraction aside, focusing on being supportive. KJ clearly had more important things on their mind right now than kissing. 

"Do you have any herbal tea?" they said.

"I think there's some in the cupboard from when I was pregnant. Does it go bad?" 

KJ shook their head incredulously, making their short dreadlocks bounce, and while Diana made tea, they talked about KJ's life and planned out what kinds of photos would best illustrate it. "I want to show them all of me—work and Shonna and the cats."

It wasn't until they were back on the couch with their tea that the conversation lulled enough for Diana to take a breath and say lightly, "I have a question. Say I like someone who's nonbinary. Can I still identify as a lesbian, or is that disrespectful?"

KJ smiled, shy and pleased. "You know, I'm really happy you asked. It makes me feel like you see me."

"I do. I'd like to." Diana's chest was tight with waiting. She could feel her blood fizzing all the way to her toes. "So?"

"I think it's okay. I mean, it's your identity. It depends on what being a lesbian means to you, if you can reconcile it." KJ chewed their lip.

They were sitting close, and Diana shifted around so she could face KJ. "So, okay. In that case, I'm going to ask you on the world's most unromantic date. Come to the Museum of Natural History on Saturday with me and Theo and Theo's honorary uncle. I've got to warn you, he's weird." That sounded judgmental and alarming, so she quickly amended it to, "Unconventional."

"I'm unconventional and weird." KJ's eyes lit with humor.

Diana snorted. "Trust me, you're not weird at all. Mozzie is weird. Plus, he has this unfortunate tendency." She explained about Mozzie stress-testing her dates, trying not to sound like she'd been meeting women non-stop since she moved to D.C.

"You're pretty fierce. I'm surprised you let him get away with it."

"Well, he's kind of Theo's unofficial godfather too, but don't ever tell him I said so," said Diana, just as Theo came in and complained he couldn't sleep. By the time Diana had settled him down again, KJ was standing by the window, checking the time on their phone. "Sorry about that. Where were we?"

KJ slid their phone in their pocket and rubbed their face. "I'd love to come to the museum with you and Theo. And I'll talk to you before then, anyway, to figure out this thing with my parents. But right now, it's really late, and it's a school night. I have to go."

"Okay." Diana followed them to the door, and they both said goodnight, and it was almost comically awkward, the air electric between them, but neither made a move because the timing wasn't right somehow, momentum dissipated in the talk of parents and the lateness of the hour. Diana leaned in the doorway and watched KJ leaving, their body strong and easy, their bare shoulders burnished by the porch light. 

Screw waiting for the right time. "Wait."

KJ stopped on the sidewalk and looked back, and Diana ran down to meet them. She touched KJ's shoulder like she'd been dying to and raised up and kissed them. KJ was angled away a few degrees, but they turned back to her, wrapping their arms around Diana's waist and pulling her close. Kissing her back, breathless and a little shaky, and Diana's eyes fell shut as she gave herself up to the strangeness and newness, pleasure and desire, and the certainty that this, right here, was what she wanted. 

 

**6.**

The Deputy Director of Operation's PA punched a button on her phone and looked at Diana. "You can go in now."

Diana hastily saved the email she was writing to Clinton and slid her phone into her pocket as she stood up. "Thanks."

She wasn't sure why she was thanking the PA, or why she'd been summoned to McKinley's office. Everything she had to say was in the report, which had been sent out a week ago, but apparently he wanted to talk to her in person. Perhaps it was karma for not testifying at Caffrey's commutation hearing; she hadn't wanted to fudge the truth then, and she wanted it even less now.

"Agent Berrigan." McKinley was stout and balding, in shirtsleeves and tie, with a benign fatherly expression that reminded her of Agent Kramer—deceptive, possibly sharkish. 

Her palms started to sweat. "Special Agent McKinley."

"Sit down, sit down." An email notification sounded from his computer, and he flicked a glance at the screen, then brought his attention back to her, lacing his fingers on the plastic cover of _Embedding Criminal Informants in FBI Operational Units_ , which lay askew on his leather-bound desk blotter. "I've read your report."

"Yes, sir." Maybe he'd found out the truth about Caffrey, and that she'd been the one to process his paperwork and release him from any future obligation to the FBI. She could lose her job for misleading the Bureau. She'd be unemployable. She and Theo would have to move back in with her parents. She forced her expression to remain calm.

"As you know, we incorporated CIs into several different teams across the country, after Burke and Caffrey gave us such impressive results. Of course, none have risen to their exalted heights, but then, there's only one Peter Burke."

"Yes, sir." That she could agree with whole-heartedly. It was refreshing to hear Peter get the credit for White Collar NY's solve rate.

"I'm sure you know we tried to convince him to take on another CI, in Caffrey's place, but he's… resisted our advice."

Diana stayed silent. Peter hadn't mentioned that, but she wasn't surprised he'd pushed back. Not after Neal. She could only imagine his response to the suggestion. 

McKinley shrugged, apparently giving up on her answering. "Anyway, that's neither here nor there. What's of more pressing concern is that some of our embedded CIs have been uneasy since word got out about Caffrey's accident. They're threatening the viability of the program. We've been doing our best to address their…" He gestured impatiently, as if finishing the sentence were too much trouble. "But you know how those guys are, making a mountain out of a freak accident, trying to turn everything to their advantage as if we're not working within our own constraints. In your opinion, what can we do to further ensure their safety?"

She'd already written about this in the report. "The investigation cleared Agent Burke and the rest of the team of any responsibility for what happened with Caffrey. There's nothing we could have done."

"I'm not asking about the investigation," said McKinley. "I know the official line. I want your opinion, off the record. It won't come back to bite you."

"There was nothing Agent Burke could have done," repeated Diana. "What happened to Caffrey was his own responsibility. He left the crime scene in pursuit of Matthew Keller, without informing any of the agents on scene. He should have taken backup, and he knew it."

"He was off-anklet at the time?"

"Yes, sir," said Diana. Either McKinley hadn't read the report, or he was trying to catch her out. "If we want to protect our CIs—and we should—we need to stop sending them in undercover. They're not trained, and they naturally fall back on their instincts, which usually means improvising and going it alone."

"They do have the advantage of not being bound by the same limits placed on our agents," said McKinley thoughtfully.

Diana nodded, well aware that Neal's ability to eel through legal loopholes had contributed to more than one arrest. But it was the Bureau's responsibility to hold the reins. "It's always going to be a trade-off between safety and effectiveness," she said blandly. "And as I said in part three of the report, the New York State's Attorney has openly questioned the Bureau's use of CIs to sidestep certain aspects of warrant law. She was adamant that embedded CIs, working under FBI supervision, are de facto agents of the State."

"As you say." McKinley smiled faintly. "Well, thank you for your candor, Berrigan. You've done good work here." He tapped her report. "Give my regards to your father, won't you?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Of course he knew her father. Diana made her escape, relieved to have gotten off so lightly. 

She went back to her desk and dropped into her chair with a sigh. Thank goodness her next project had nothing to do with Neal.

"What did McKinley want?" asked Watkins.

"An oral book report."

"Or a magic bullet," said Watkins, rolling his eyes in sympathy. "That's all they ever want. Skittle Sours?" He offered the box.

Diana held out her hand. "I could use a sugar hit. Thanks." 

 

*

 

Mozzie arrived outside the Museum of Natural History at ten on the dot. He was wearing sunglasses, a straw hat and a green shirt printed with hula dancers. Theo yelled and ran and hugged him, and Mozzie hugged back and produced matching sunglasses in kids' size and even smaller ones for Lulu. 

Theo was loudly delighted. "Look, Mom! Look, KJ! Lulu and me have glasses."

"They look like the Blues Brothers," said KJ as an aside.

Mozzie straightened and assessed KJ. "Who's this?"

"This is KJ," said Theo. "They're not a girl or a boy, and they made me cupcakes, and they're cool."

"Short and to the point," muttered Diana, taking KJ's hand in defiance of whatever judgement Mozzie might make.

Mozzie took off his sunglasses. "What kind of cupcakes?" 

"Banana with chocolate frosting." KJ held out their hand. "Hi, Mozzie. Theo speaks highly of you."

Mozzie shook hands. "Call me Moz."

Diana breathed again. There was no way she'd have let Mozzie interfere with her budding romance, not this time, but he was family, in a strange, stubborn sort of way, and she had to admit—if only to herself—it was better if they could all get along. "Come on," she said. "I bought tickets for ten-thirty."

The tickets to the Butterfly Pavilion were timed. They went and waited outside, near the displays. Mozzie was with Theo, studying the pictures of the butterflies in the pavilion and showing him how to sound out the names.

"Moz really seems to care about him," said KJ, watching.

"He's fixated," said Diana, gruffly. 

KJ grinned and bumped shoulders with her. "Well, Theo is a great kid. Takes after his mom."

Afterwards, after the butterflies and a tour of the insect exhibits, they went to the café and got hand-dipped ice creams and, in Mozzie's lactose-intolerant case, a coffee. KJ and Mozzie were teasing each other like old friends, and Theo asked if they could all go back to see the cockroaches again later. 

Diana rolled her eyes at the lot of them. "Hey," she said, touching KJ's arm. "Could you look after Doorbell for a minute? I need to talk to Mozzie in private."

"Of course."

"Uh-oh," said Moz dramatically. "For the record, I want my ashes scattered on the Isle of Crete, and I bequeath my complete comic book collection to Theo."

KJ grinned. "Wimp. I thought you were supposed to be a criminal mastermind."

"Allegedly," said Mozzie.

"And I'm his nemesis," said Diana. She led Mozzie outside the café, found a quiet corner and folded her arms. "Neal told me why you've been gate-crashing my dates."

"A smooth sea never made a skillful sailor," said Mozzie, gesturing pompously. 

"Shut up. And you can quit whatever you think you're doing. I'll manage my own love life from now on. No interfering!"

"Hey, you invited me this time. Did you want my seal of approval? You've got it."

"It's not about that," said Diana. "It's—After Neal died, we hardly saw you. You disappeared. If you want to be in Theo's life, you can't just check out like that."

Mozzie opened his mouth, then shut it again. When he spoke, his voice was solemn. "What do you propose?"

"Regular playdates, once a month," said Diana. "I want him to know he can count on you. If you can't make it down here, we'll come up to the city."

"Deal."

"Okay." Diana nodded and stepped back. "That's all I wanted to say."

Mozzie drew himself up. "Diana, thank you."

"What can I say? Like it or not, you're family." Despite herself, Diana smiled.

 

*

 

Later that night, she called Peter. "Hey, boss."

"Diana. How's it going?"

"Great," said Diana. "Invite Theo and me to dinner once a month, we'll be there." It was presumptuous, expecting them to host, but with Mikey, it was the easiest option. She could hardly expect the White Collar alumni to traipse en masse down to D.C. for dinner once a month. And Peter didn't let her down.

"We'd love that," he said promptly. "Come to dinner. Next Saturday? I'll make pot roast."

"The Saturday after?" Next Saturday afternoon, Diana and KJ were scheduled to have afternoon tea with KJ's parents. Even if they could make it to New York for dinner, they probably wouldn't be in the right frame of mind for socializing. And she and Theo had church with her parents on Sunday.

"Second Saturday of the month. Our calendar looks clear. Great." Peter sounded pleased. "I'll let Clinton know."

"And Mozzie," said Diana. "And I—we might bring a friend."

"We'll have to get an extension for the dining table," said Peter. "I'm joking. Are we talking a friend or a _friend_?"

"They're more than a friend," said Diana. "You got me."

"Tell me about her." Peter did a kind of verbal double-take. "Wait, you're playing the pronoun game. You're not seeing a man?" 

"Seriously, no." Diana wasn't sure how to explain KJ to Peter in the abstract. "Their name is KJ."

"That's great, Diana. I'm sure she's—"

"They," corrected Diana. "KJ uses 'they'/'them' pronouns. They're nonbinary. And before you ask, I'm still a lesbian. Just an open-minded one."

"Broad spectrum," said Peter.

Diana snorted. "I'm not an antibiotic. You'll understand when you meet them."

There was a moment where she could practically hear Peter's worldview adjusting. "I'm sure they're great. You know, I had lunch with Rayne the other day, and she said, 'A label should set you free; it shouldn't be a straightjacket.'"

"You know, you're much less of a square than you used to be," said Diana, grinning.

Peter laughed. "Well, we all have to move with the times. We'll see you in a couple of weeks."

"Looking forward to it." Diana hung up and smiled down at KJ, who was lying with their head in Diana's lap. "How about it?"

KJ looked daunted. "Will Mozzie be there?"

Diana laughed. Of all the alumni, it was ridiculous that Mozzie was their first ally. Ridiculous and inevitable. She brushed her thumb over KJ's collar bone, feeling their heartbeat under her palm. "I'll make sure of it."

 

END


End file.
